


A Little Less Sixteen Candles

by orphan_account



Series: A Little Less Sixteen Candles [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:32:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3720403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whoo hoo! Second work for me. </p><p>So plot line is basically, Patrick's dad is a vampire who kills almost everyone. Pete is the slayer who comes to save him but gets bitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Are You Waiting For?

**Author's Note:**

> Sorta inspired by the Corpse Bride. Pete’s POV. He’s a vampire hunter who gets bitten. All chapters are gonna be kinda short.

I walked through the woods, a little wind picking up around me.  The late October leaves danced around my feet, as subjects would their king.

But I’m no king. Not anymore. But I’ve been hired to kill one. 

My name is Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, and I’m a vampire hunter.

A local king was infected when a group of Victorian goth vampires came through. 

They slaughtered half of the village and attempted to kill the king. 

They failed. 

Thinking he was dead, they left him. Now he’s undead and tries to kill everyone. 

My other mission is to save his son. 

He forces his two sons and his daughter to give him blood when he needs it. The eldest son and the daughter were too zombified, his subjugates. The last child was still close enough to save. 

I’d been given a lot of background on this assignment. 

But not on my target.  I hardly know jack shit about the rest of the situation. 

But as for the kid, I can tell you his favorite music, he likes hats, what clothing he likes to wear. I can tell you he’s a gay virgin. He’s never been kissed. He loves Bowie. He likes argyle sweaters. Hats of all kinds, but over-sized trucker hats are his favorite. His name is Patrick, Patrick Martin Stumph. He introduces himself as Patrick Vaughn Stump. 

And I was going to be his knight in sparkly black armor. 

I flipped my hair out of my eyes. The wind had pushed it there, making my line of sight a straight mass of black and red. 

I knew my mission. 

What was taking me so long to get there? 

First off, the fact that I have a high chance of death. Not that I’m afraid of death, I welcome it with open arms. 

And the thing is, sometimes, people don’t want to be saved. I learned that myself, the hard way. 

I worry for Patrick, I really do. And I’ve never even met him.


	2. The Wayward Sons & Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete reveals the reason for his job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete's POV. 
> 
> Intro Gerard and Mikey.

It is my job to save the ungrateful brat, wether he wants it or not.

I don't know why, but Mikey and Gerard have shown a special interest in the kid.

I want to save him.

I don't want him to die.

But I'm no hero.

I've mentioned that I'm not a king anymore.

There's a good reason for that.

The totalitarian control got to my head.

I wish I could wash all the blood of innocent people from my hands. It's been washed, but to me, it's there. More prevalent than my tattoos. Haunting me.

I had to escape it all.

So I left.

I ran from everything I knew.

Somewhere along the line, I met the Wayward Sons.

Mikey and Gerard employed Waywards (It's funny because their last name is in the title of their business.) and used them as they needed them.

Somewhere in me, they saw a hero.

They gave me a job.

To save people.

It quieted the voices in my head and somehow, canceled some of my wrongs. 

I was lucky that they employed me.

They knew about my past, but were willing to drop it, as long as I was changing they didn't care.

Metaphorically, my hands are becoming cleaner with each person I save. 

But IF I fail, they'll send the "Killer" after me.

 _NO ONE_ escapes Beckett.

He's employed simply as an assassin for the failed hires.

So I have to be careful.

If one tooth of those leeches so much as grazes my skin, I'm done for. They'll kill me where I stand, no matter where that may be.

Once, I strayed ever so slightly from orders.

They sent William after me.

I never even found out how they knew I strayed from the plan, or how he found me so fast, but they did.

The Ways let me live, but I still have the scars from that beating.

I'm determined not to mess this one up.

And I will kill that oversized puppy of a hound they have.

The only blood on my hands after my mission will belong to William Beckett.


	3. Enter Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete finds Patrick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a play on "Enter Sandman". 
> 
> STILL Pete's POV. 
> 
> Enter Ashlee.

After a long walk in the brisk late October air, I found the castle.

In the middle of nowhere.

Not only is it unworthy of writing home about, you shouldn't even pick up the pen. 

Through a window in a tower towards the top, I could see Patrick and his father. 

 _Filthy bloodsucker._ I thought to myself.

They were clearly arguing about something. I could hear the sound when the old man's hand connected with Patrick's face. 

 _That's it._ I thought.  _End of the line, leech._

I rushed toward the castle when I heard a voice.

Soft, feminine, and barely audible.

"Help." she said again, barely above a whisper.

I turned to her. There were scratches and blood on her face. Even caked into her soft, shoulder- length red hair. Her green eyes shone will a dull pain.

It wasn't in my instructions to save anyone other than Patrick. But it wasn't in there not to. And she was just a girl, probably still in her teens.

I bent to pick her up.

"Ah... You...Smell like...." her speech was impaired.

I blamed it on her sickness.

Her pale, malnourished frame hinted at some sort of sickness.

"Garlic." she finished with a sigh.

"I'm here to save the boy." I whispered, sliding my garlic necklace from under my cloak.

She shook in my arms and hissed.

"A hunter. I hate your kind." she spat the last word at me like it was venomous in her mouth.

She jumped to her feet, smiling sickly. Her fangs were caked with dried blood.

Wait.... _fangs._.. This is  _not  _supposed to happen.

"Vampire" I hissed at her.

"Actually, the name's Ashlee. I'm afraid you can't have Patrick." 

Okay, I lied about the blood thing.

But she was hindering my mission.

I didn't wanna kill the pretty girl, but I had to.

After driving my stake completely through her, I flung it to the side, putting it through the heart of another leech.

 


	4. Hemmy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete tells the story of his hatred for vampires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete's POV. 
> 
> SAD.

I've always had a hatred for blood suckers.

Well, not always.

Almost a year, actually. 

You can't blame me for hating it.

It being vampirism. It's a disease.

And those evil blood suckers killed my best friend.

After losing Hemmingway, I went more than a little mad.

I killed pretty much everyone in sight. And I vowed to kill the leech that took Hemmy. I've yet to find the blood sucker, but I'm pretty sure he's somewhere in this hell hole of a town.

You see, the vamps and I, we had a deal.

A person a month for their protection.

All was good for a year. But then they demanded more from us. I refused. I wasn't giving up all of my people to those assholes.

I don't care. They can't control my city. My empire.

They will not do it.

But they knew how to cripple me.

I came back to the castle after a big speech in the square to find Hemmy sprawled across my throne.

I knew something was wrong then.Hemmingway was trained never to sit there.

I tried shaking him awake and my hand came away with a little blood.

Flipping him over, I saw the teeth marks on his neck. 

 _Game on,_ _fuckers_.

I got the message, loud and clear. Still, I couldn't help the scream that escaped my mouth.

Somehow, I blamed them.

In my head, my people were the reason he died.

Anyone who mentioned Hemmy, I killed them.

Go into the castle without my permission? Die.

Look at me like I'm as insane as I know I am? Dead. 

Now I'm going to save the people, kill the leeches.

Vice versa of my past.


	5. Knight In Sparkling Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete recues Patrick.

After killing the two vamps, it took about three hours to scale the tower wall.

I peeked in his window.

He was,  _of course,_ asleep.

I crept in through the window, using all of my training to be as quiet as possible.

I contemplated packing his things so we could leave faster. But I didn't know what he would need. Or what he'd wear. He's wearing an argyle sweater,  _for fuck's sake._ I can't pack for him.

I had no choice but to wake him.

Holding my hand a little above his mouth, I shook him gently.

"WHAT ARE YOU- _mmmph-"_ I cut him off, slamming my hand over his mouth.

"I'm here to save you. Shut up and pack your shit." I whispered. "Are we gonna scream?" I asked.

If he did, we were both dead.

He shook his head.

I released him and pushed him towards the dresser. 

 _Those knee socks and that sweater actually look kinda cute on him,_ I thought.

"Godspeed, Trick."

He packed fast, but not fast enough.

We  _barely_ had time to make it through the castle- he insisted on going the long way, versus the window- and into the surrounding woods when we heard the king curse at an empty room. 

Patrick spoke then.

"What now? Are you like my-" he cut himself off to look me over. "-knight in sparkling armor?"

I could not help but to laugh at that. He wasn't wrong. I _was_ there to save him and _most_  of my outfit glittered. 

"Got something against glitter, Trick?"

He shook his head, laughing lightly.

It was obvious he was scared shitless.

And a little cold.

The temperature had dropped in the short time since I arrived.

I gracefully took of my long black cloak, draping it over Patrick's shoulders.

"Th-thank you." he stuttered.

Okay, that made him extremely hot.

The little light that shone in his blue eyes was driving me nuts. 

"And now, we walk. It's not very far." He and I both groaned.

"Okay."

Even though he agreed, I couldn't get him to move without him whining. Like a little bitch.

"It'll be okay, baby." I cooed in his ear.

He stopped dead in his tracks. "Did... Did you just call me baby?"

I could feel the heat coming to my cheeks.

"No." I replied, with a hiss on my tongue. "I didn't." 

 _GOOD fucking job, Peter._ I told myself.

Back to the Ways. 

Hopefully they let me watch over the boy.


	6. Return of the Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete is in for a fight.

That voice.

It was still with me.

It shouldn't be.

I shouldn't be hearing her, after she's dead. But somehow, I am.

"Petey, babe. That wasn't very nice, stabbing me like that." 

 _SHIT._ Somehow, she was here.

"Trick!" I yelled out.

"Too late, honey, I've already got him. And I need you to prove how sorry you are before I let him go."

I can't believe Satan herself is using my assignment as bait for me.

"You see, I don't want to kill him, but I will. I don't  _want_ to be a bad girl. I wanna be on your side. I've done my research, and if you don't want me to reveal you to your little one here, you'll let me come along."

Patrick's head perked up at that.

Well, as much as it could with her fangs near his throat.

"What the hell is she talking about, Pete?" He looked genuinely scared.

"NOTHING." My voice was harsher than it should've been.

I didn't need this fucking invinci-vamp ruining my chances with Patrick.

"I hate you." I hissed at her. "But I'm sorry, doll. Please let him go. I'd hate for you to fuck that pretty face up. Then I'd have to kill you."

Her eyes flickered, as if she was deciding whether to kill both of us or let him go.

"Forgiven." her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, almost snake- like.

So, I think that Gee and Mikey are definitely gonna kill me now.

A fucking  _vampiress_ is in my fucking company.

  _Fuck me._

And if that isn't enough, Patrick thinks I'm some shady asshole because of her. I've had enough of  _Ass_ -lee.  _  
_

I'm gonna kill her as soon as I can.

She slid up next to me, hissing in my ear.

God, she's like a ninja.

She's better than I am. 

I hate her.


	7. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete comes clean.

It was hard to hide anything from Patrick. I should just tell him. But I'm scared that he'll reject me and run back to his dad. And I don't need that. At all. Ever.

It's not like I'm in love with the kid. I am just concerned for his well- being. He's only sixteen. Or seventeen. Maybe.

And me being twenty-one, it's not even legal. 

 _What have you gotten into, Pete?_ I asked myself.

"Peter?" I looked up at Patrick.

She Satan is sleeping- though I think she's faking it- so he feels it is the safest time to talk to me.

"What was Ashlee talking about?"

I guess now is a good a time as any to finally come clean to him.

  _Fuck me._

I told him the entire story.

"I will understand if you hate me and want to go back to your dad."

He took his hands and put them on both of my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.

"Pete... Listen, we all make mistakes. I understand. I'm not taking a chance at death to leave. And- Well, I-I haven't known you long, but I couldn't leave you."

I didn't know exactly what compelled me to, but I kissed him then. 

His lips were hesitant under mine. I could feel him submitting to me. 

_This is great. Absolutely heaven._

Then I could hear someone clearing their throat.

  _Ass-_ lee was awake. Again.

One day, I'm gonna finish her off. 

I casually flicked open the blade to my knife.

"Honey, I will kill you. And I won't think twice about it."

She hissed at me.

And of course, Patrick finds it abso-fucking-lutely hilarious. 

I just don't believe that it's coincidences that Ashlee keeps interupting my Patrick moments.


	8. Facing It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big surprises.

Gerard looked Patrick up and down as Mikey stared intently at me.

"Good job, Wentz. You got what we needed."

Then both of their gazes were directed towards Patrick.

"But you forgot something. Also, I didn't involve the she bitch in this equation."

Ashlee whimpered, pulling against her chains.

"Look, she's helped us a lot. I'd appreciate it if you'd have Beckett back the fuck off of her."

Patrick just looked puzzled. "Um. Pete. What the fuck is he talking about? Why'd you bring me here? I thought you were rescuing me!"

Mikey laughed. "So, Peter, you haven't told him the truth? Such a disappointment."

He looked at William practically drooling over Ashlee and then to Patrick.

"He brought you here because we told him to. You're just a job to him. We keep him alive and give him a job regardless of his shady past and he does whatever we tell him to."

Patrick looked at me, tears in his eyes. "Is- Is this true, Pete?"

I hissed at the Ways. The _fuck you_ look I was shooting had to deliver the message just fine.

"Trick, you were never just a job to me. I had and have no clue what they want, but I love you, Patrick." I said.

He looked at me, like a kicked puppy, breaking my heart. 

"Uh huh. Sure. I'm done." and with that, he ran off into the woods.

Mikey started after him.

"Stop. Let him run. It's not his fault that he fell in love with a lying asshole. Wentz, you fucked up big. Our 'plans' with him were for you to have someone so you wouldn't be lonely and to save him from his dad. "

Fuck.

"PATRICK!" I screamed and ran after him. 


	9. Once Your Heart's Been Broken, It Grows Back Bigger (But It's Never The Same)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.
> 
> Well. Pete gets over Patrick just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patrick's not mentioned very much here....

"Patrick, baby,  _wait."_ I yelled after him.

He looked at me long enough to flip me off and hiss. " **LEAVE.** **ME. ALONE! **Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third, if I NEVER see you again, it'll be  **way** too soon." And he stormed away, those shorts and knee socks and that  _ugly_ fucking sweater, gone from my life. 

I half stumbled, half walked back to the Way mansion.

William came to me, looking genuinely concerned. "You okay?" he asked me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I brushed it off with a huff. "No, Beckett, I most CERTAINLY am not oka-"

My rage was cut off by a soft touch to my cheek.

William had both of his hands around my face, pressing slightly into my cheeks.

You'd think he was going to hurt me, by reputation alone, but the look of pure want, of pure  _need,_ showed otherwise.

"W-william.. What are you- mmmph"

My protest softly turned into a tiny moan as I worked myself into the kiss.

His lips pressed to mine were soft and smooth, but demanding. He licked his way into my mouth, gasping softly when my lips parted under his.

  _Who can blame me?_ I find myself thinking. I'm heartbroken.

  _It's okay._ William's lips assure me. 

"I've wanted to do that for a long, long time, Peter." he whispered against my lips.

I shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on my face.

All of the signs screamed  _wrong._ But I had my headphones in, blaring out the noise. 

A few hours later, sticky and laying next to him, I already regretted it. 

My mind was going in a frenzy. 

 _Patrickpatrickpatrickpatrickpatrick._ Assaulting my thoughts, taking them over. Filling them with his name. 

I never knew one word would unravel me so bad.

Still feeling the chemical romance locked between our lips.

The way his hips rocked against mine as he pulled me down to kiss me.

This isn't- and won't be- over easy as 1, 2, 3. It's a numbed infinite flame, burning until it's all we  _can't_ do to think of each other. 

I cleaned myself up, brushing the taste and feel of him from my mouth.

I hated myself for it. 

_Why couldn't it've been Patrick? It should've been him. Oh, that's right. I'm an asshole._

Three showers and four brushings later, I felt clean enough to retire to my room.

I heard a knock at my door. I knew who it was. He wanted to talk about it. Um, no. Never.

"Peter, I know you're in there."  _Stop calling me Peter._

"Bilvy, I don't want to talk about it. You know how I feel about Patrick."

He sighed. "That's not what I wanted. Just open.. Gah, Pete, open the door." 

I sighed loudly, just so he would hear. "It's open." I whispered, hoping that part wasn't audible.

My door opened slowly and I got a sweater thrown in my face.

"Didn't think you could get rid of me that easy, did you Wentz?" he asked me, coming in to give me a kiss.

I flopped back against the bed. "I hoped not, Patrick."


	10. Ashlee's Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlee's backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly sad.  
> Character death
> 
> Short lame

Ashlee knocked softly on my door. "Can I talk to you guys, if you aren't busy?"

Patrick grunted his approval.

"Sorry about my behavior around William. We have a little history. " she frowned a little. "He... He was the father of my child, Bronx. He was a strange little half human, because I was turned during my pregnancy. He grew to about three years old when David killed him, fearing he was a danger. "

David... Patrick's dad.

"M-my dad killed your son?"

She nodded and started crying. "Yeah. He did." Sadly.

Patrick looked absolutely grief stricken. "I'm sorry." he rushed forward and hugged Ashlee.

"I'm sorry I threatened to kill you, Patrick. I thought you would be like HIM."

He smiled. "It's okay." 

Mikey stood in the doorway and knocked lightly. "Hello guys. Mind if I come in?" he came in anyway, without our approval. "Sorry we did that about you and Patrick." 


	11. Chapter 11

“Hey, Patrick?” I asked.

“Hm?”

I really dreaded telling Patrick that we had to go back.

“Patrick… The _thing_ that Gee and Mikey mentioned… Well. I’m not sure what it was. But they need me to go back and get it. I should hope you’re coming too. They’ll give further instructions when we decide.”

Patrick sighed.

“Hey. Trick. You don’t have to go. We don’t have to go.”

 The look in his eyes told me that he was willing to sacrifice so we could still have the protection of Gerard, Mikey and Bilvy.  

“No. I’ll be fine. Let’s go talk to them.” 

 As we headed downstairs, I could hear a guttural, animal like scream. 

“Ashlee?” I heard someone say.

If I had to guess, it would be William. 

The scream sounded once again. 

Ashlee rounded the corner, looking weak and tired. “He…. William won’t even let me have a lamb or anything. Better than a person. But he says they can’t spare the livestock. I offered to kill him.”

It was obvious she was starving. 

“I… I can help you.”

I was shocked at this.

“Patrick.  No.” 

He looked right in my eyes, begging in a way. “It’s just a little. I’ll be fine.” 

Ashlee hummed her ascent. “He’ll be fine. I don’t wanna deal with you if I killed him anyway." 

 I laughed at Ashlee. "Yeah. Probably the best idea if you don't kill him. "

Patrick looked whiter than usual, which probably meant he was scared.

"Patrick, honey, you don't have to do this unless you want to."

Patrick sighed softly. "No. It's fine."

He took his hat off, exposing his soft white neck.

Ashlee bent over him, sinking her soft fangs into his neck.

His face contorted for a second, but then he looked blissed.

 Then he started going  _white_.

"ASHLEE! Get the hell off of him." I pulled her off, throwing her against the wall. She may have super strength, but I had adrenaline on my side.

"S-sorry." she whispered. 

 I took Patrick into my arms. He looked frail and weak.

"You okay, baby?" He nodded softly.

"Y-ye-" he cut off and passed out in my arms. 

 I grit my teeth, trying hard not to jump up and kill her.

"Get out." I hissed. "Now."

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking only two more chapters after this one.
> 
>  
> 
> Short chapter, sorry. I'm trying to lead up to the climax and then I'll write a sequel. I just don't want to keep this one going the way it is. 
> 
> In the sequel, there'll be a lot of changes and Pete has more sympathy for Ashlee.

Patrick looked up at me, his eyes grayish and blissful. But there was a hint of pain in them as well. "Why'd you yell at her, Peter Panda?" His speech slurred as he continued to talk.

"Shhh, take it easy, Patrick. She hurt you, love." 

He shook his head. "I wanna go to sleep, Petey." At his request, I laid him into bed. 

"Go to sleep, Patrick." I stalked off after Ashlee when I was sure he was sound asleep. I slipped a sliver dagger with a wicked tip into my waistband as I went. 

It wasn't hard to find her. Since it was daylight, she was getting up her strength. By sleeping in her coffin. 

It actually looked pretty comfortable. It was a dark brown, almost black with bright red trim. I could actually sleep in it. If it wasn't for, ya know, the undead. 

She wasn't stirring at all, even though I was breathing over her. Time to wake her up. I pulled the knife out and pressed it over her heart.

"Hello, Ashlee." I said maliciously.

"How's it going?" she asked, trying to get up. Then she realized that I had a knife to her heart.

"Oh. So it's like that. Look, his blood... I can't explain. It's like, a drug. I literally  _could not_ stop. I don't know... Usually I have enough control to stop. I've only took that much from one person, and that was right after I woke up. But I didn't take enough to kill or turn him. He'll be fine."

I sighed. "Ashlee, he's NOT fine. He passed out in my arms, in case you didn't realize. You're off the hook, but if he dies, so help me... I'll live up to all of my threats against you." I pulled the blade away from her heart.

"I get that you love Patrick. Again, I'm sorry." I nodded to her.

"I get it. Stop apologizing. Just pray he lives and is perfectly fine. I'm going to talk to the boys."

The Way brothers were happy to see me. William was sitting on a stool between their thrones, with a pleased look on his face.

"Good that you got her under control. Thanks." he whispered to me. Mikey looked up at me. His eyes were filled with the undying love he still had for me. Our romance had ended a long time ago, but we both stilled fanned the flame just a little. 

Mikey grabbed my hand and led me away from the throne room.

"I'm to tell you what to do next. I'd rather just kiss you." I made a noise of protest.

"I get it, you have Patrick now. I just miss how it used to be." he pressed up against me, squeezing me into a hug. I could feel him starting to cry. I wiped the tears from his face and caressed his cheek slightly.

  _Don't go down that road, Pete._

"Right. So... What am I supposed to do now." He nodded in a way that meant  _back to business._

"Well. You saved Patrick like you were supposed to. BUT you didn't kill David."

He pulled a longsword from the sheath on his back and passed it to me. "Think you can do it?"

I nodded and bowed before him, kissing his hand. "I can, my king."

He popped me softly in the head, for my smartness.

"Then go."

As I stood to leave, he called me back for one more thing. He pressed his lips to mine and pulled away before I hit him. "I want his head on a platter." 

I was a man on a(nother) mission. And I would finish this one.


	13. Man On A(nother) Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~SPOILERS~~
> 
> Pete gets bit trying to finish his mission.
> 
> And he dies.
> 
> No one can save him.

He saw me before I had the chance to jump him.

"I recognize your scent. You're the one who stole my son. Beloved Patrick. I miss his company. Kevin and Megan aren't as interesting. I also miss Ashlee, annoying as she is. Have you killed her yet?"

I huffed. I was identifying with this creep. "Yes, Patrick is rather entertaining. Ashlee is a royal pain in the neck. Sadly, she's still alive. But you aren't going to be for long." 

He laughed in my face. "Is that so, hunter? Because I believe I have something you want. Carden, McCoy, bring them here. "

Two boys I didn't know came in, dragging a tired looking pair in with them.

Upon further inspection, I determined that they were Brendon and Spencer. They looked so pale and drained. Brendon was dressed like something out of a bad nineteen twenties mob movie and Spencer was a shivering lump laying on the ground, dressed in an old suit. 

"Now, as you can tell, my boys Travie and Mike are vampires. Brendon is in the process of turning. Spencer is as well. I will give you your friends, if you leave. But they've been rather... starved. I don't trust them not to turn on you if you're injured fighting, which I can already guess you're gonna try."

As far as I knew, he couldn't read minds, but he was smart.

"I know you're not a mind-reader. What gave it away?" I snarled.

"Your stance. And you little punk emo boys like to fight. Boy's like you try too hard not to look quite as desperate. And I can tell you're in this battle for love. But the way to win someone is not to kill their father."

"That's where you're wrong, David. He hates you. As do I."

I gave Brendon and a now standing Spencer a look, trying to shoot my thoughts their way.  _Surprise them so we can get out of here._ _  
_

Obviously, it worked. And thank God for their bony frames. They both elbowed their captors in the chin, making their necks crack sharply. Travie and Mike fell to the ground.

I took that moment to stab David. He was preoccupied with his minions being attacked and didn't notice until I had the knife in his chest. But he jumped and I missed my target.

"You call yourself a hunter?" he laughed. 

His fangs extended, hitting me in the neck. He sucked, my blood filling his mouth. I couldn't pull away. I see why Patrick was entranced.

But thank God my friends were here alongside me. Brendon pulled me away, while Spencer took my sword and finished the job. 

I don't remember most of the walk home. I know I was draped, rather awkwardly between the makeshift gurney Spence and Brendon had made from their arms. Any speech I'd attempted to make came slurred and unintelligible. 

Some time later, I could hear voices. Talking. About me.

"Good to see you back, boys. What happened?"  _Gerard._  

"He was bitten." _Brendon._

"I'm worried about him." _Patrick._

"Patrick... He's not going to make it. He's lost too much blood. The best we can do is bury him and hope he digs his way up tonight."  _Mikey._

I tried to speak to them, but my mouth wouldn't open. I could barely form thoughts.  _GUYS, I'm alive._ I tried once again to say. I could hear sobbing, probably from both Patrick and Mikey.

Ashlee was the first to speak."I didn't get buried soon enough. I almost died." That sparked a reaction. 

Patrick kneeled next to me. "Don't leave me, Petey. I... I love you. I need you." He stood and turned to face the group. "Where're the shovels?"

They put me in a coffin, stolen from Travie McCoy's room. He wouldn't be needing it anymore. 

The dirt smelled wet and the slopping sound it made when it hit the wood was relaxing. I drifted to sleep. 

I knew this was just another vivid dream. My friend weren't burying me. I wasn't in a coffin. I was becoming paler. Brendon and Spencer aren't half- vampires. I'd wake up next to Patrick, in our soft bed in the room above Mikey's. This wasn't happening.

 


	14. Is There Another Metaphor For (Un)Death?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete as a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete's a vampire now.
> 
> Last chapter.
> 
> Sequel will be more about his life as a vampire.
> 
> Kudos and comments welcome.

As I hit my head on the door of a coffin, I realized that it wasn't a dream.

I touched my finger to my lips, feeling my teeth. I flinched when my fangs pricked my finger. Looking at my arm I realized my skin was, in fact, paler.

I struggled, scratching at the door. _Wait, shouldn't I have super strength?_ I asked myself.

I pushed the door up off of the coffin, answering my own question.

Thankfully, they left enough space to lay the lid beside me so I could escape. I also had super hearing and a heightened sense of smell.

I could over hear Patrick talking to Mikey and Ashlee. "I'm worried about him. He's not came up yet." Patrick said.

"It took me three days. He was bitten and nearly drained. I lost less blood than he did and it took that long for me to resurrect." Ashlee told Patrick.

"Ashlee, he's not a child. Stop talking to him like he is." Mikey scolded Ashlee, his voice authoritative. 

I spit out some of the dirt that fell into my mouth. I was so _thirsty._  

"I'm going out there with him, for when he does." Patrick said. I could hear something being picked up. It smelled like blood, but a little off. The thought of blood made my fangs poke further into my lip, extracting some of my own.

I pulled the final layer of dirt out from over me, the cold night air hitting me. I breathed in deeply. Even though I didn't need to breathe anymore, it still felt good. Made me feel like part of me was still human.

Patrick had drifted off to sleep, but awoke to the sound of my breathing. "PETE! YOU'RE ALIVE! Or... Well.... Sort of." He passed the jug with the weird red substance. "Drink." I drank, draining the jug in a few seconds.

"More." I rasped out.

 "I'll have to make more. Let's take you inside." Patrick draped one of my arms around him and half dragged me inside. I'd never looked at his throat before, but it looked beautiful now. I hissed and pushed him away.

"Patrick. I can't be near you." I left a crying Patrick in my wake, running for Ashlee's room.

"Ashlee. I've hated you forever, but now I need your help. I wanted to  _bite_ Patrick. My precious, beautiful, innocent Patrick. I wanted to kill him."

She sighed. "I knew this would happen. First, you have GOT to get more blood into you. Second, you should stay away from ANY humans for the first ten days. After that, all it takes is control. And practice." She handed me a jug full of blood. Real blood. 

I drained that in a few seconds as well. "Not enough." My voice wasn't as raspy, but it was a few levels deeper than before.

"No. You have to limit yourself on how much real blood you drink. Or you'll turn into one of them. And if you turn into one of the Dandies, I'll personally kill you." I flinched at her threat.

"Doesn't feel good to be the vamp on the receiving end, huh, Pete?"

I wanted to punch her then and there. "Don't push your luck, Blondie. You and I both know Young Bloods are stronger." 

“Ashlee, you don’t understand. I _can’t do it._ “

Her eyes flashed red. She was hungry. “Sure you can. It’s all in you non-beating heart.”

She poked my chest, directly above my  _beating_ heart _. “What_ in the name of all things?!” she asked. She pulled me to my feet and led me to a mirror. 

Her reflection looked ghostly, while mine looked human. “I thought vampires don’t have a reflection?”

She looked just as shocked as I did. 

“It’s all supposed to look like mine. I don’t know why yours is so human looking. And your heart is beating. You’re an anomaly.” She sat down to think. 

“Patrick.” 

 “What about him?” I asked.

 

A sharp knock on the door interrupted our conversation. “Come in, Patrick. I know you’ve been there the whole time.” The door opened and in stepped a blus

hing Patrick. He glared at Ashlee and then sat next to me, taking my hand. “Okay, what about me?”

 Ashlee breathed in sharply. She too, preferred to be as human as vampire-ly possible.

“Something about your blood. When I drank from you, I was near starvation. I nearly killed you. A  _nap_ fixed you. Pete’s somehow sort of alive. What _are_ you, Patrick Stump?” She hissed on the last sentence, scaring Patrick. 

“Chill.” I snarled at her.

“I… I’m nothing. A nerdy, gay, seventeen-year old who likes argyle and trucker hats or fedoras. My dad’s a vampire. My siblings are too. I’m just a normal human.”

I huffed. I, for one, happened to _like_ his argyle. 

 “No, Patrick. You’re obviously _not_ human. I don’t know what you are. You’re practically immortal. I can tell you one thing, you’re a catch. But I’m gonna test you out.”

 I hissed, squeezing Patrick’s hand. “You. Are. NOT. Testing him. Touch him and I’ll use my newborn strength to bring Hell to your door.”

Patrick sighed. “No, Peter Panda… I want to know what I am. I _need_ her to find out what I am.” I nodded. “Okay Patrick.” 

 Ashlee looked at him. “Are you one-hundred percent sure, Patrick?” he nodded, looking paler than me. 

She leaned her mouth to his arm, using her fangs as a knife. He winced in pain. 

I shot her a warning look. “Calm down. I’m collecting a sample.” She reached for a bottle on the shelf behind her bed and forced the blood into it. 

The smell of blood hit my nostrils. “Ashlee.” I managed to choke out. She caught my drift and flung her arm between both of us before I could go for that perfect throat. Patrick sat there calmly. 

“Why aren’t you flipping? You’re supposed to scream and run away because a _vampire_ just tried to _bite_ you.!” He looked at me, looking sad. 

“Peter, I’m not gonna do that to you. I love you and I get I’m gonna have to deal with your vampire moments. That was a mistake on Ashlee’s part.” 

“Sorry. I forgot that there was a Young Blood in the room.” she laughed. 

 “Look, She-Ra. I may be a _Young Blood_ , but I can still kick your tail. I’m the best worst thing that hasn’t happened to you yet. Don’t fool around or yule shoot your eye out.” She still didn’t seem to take my warnings to her heart. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the references in this chapter and the previous one


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the mystery of Patrick is unravelled. The plot of the sequel with be mainly on finishing the enigma. Pete dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M’kay, I lied. THIS is the last chapter though, I promise. Major Character Death. Racial/ homophobic slurs in conversation. Violence. Pretty sad, I guess. I don’t know how anyone will process it. Last chapter, so long as hell. MMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAJJJJJJJJJJOOOOOOORRRRR cliffhanger.

 

 

Ashlee pranced back into the room, biting her lip in irritation. 

"Well, Patty, I’m not sure what the hell you are. I’ve run test after test after test. I can’t tell what you are made up of. There are traces if vampire blood and then some of human. But… Here’s the part that confuses me. Up close, your blood has a golden tint to it.” 

Patrick’s mouth opened in shock, forming a perfect ‘o’. “G-golden?” 

Ashlee nodded. “Yes, hun. In all of my work- and I used to be a hunter of both people and animals and anomalies- and I’ve never come across a damn thing that has golden red blood.” 

_Why does Pat have golden blood?_ I asked myself. 

It confused me.

To extremes.

 Ashlee snapped me out of my trance. “So, whataya think, Pete?” 

_What?_

“Hmm?” I asked tentatively. 

“We should train Patrick. Against your outburst and other vampire attacks."

I nodded and agreement. “Yeah, that is a good idea. Don’t have too many of those, don’t feel too proud.” 

She laughed drily. “Ha-fucking-ha.” Ash shot at me. 

I chuckled, turning my attention to Patrick. “What do _you_ want, babe?”

He held his face in his hands, running his fingers through his soft strawberry- blonde hair. “I don’t know.. yeah.. I guess. For safety reasons.”

I looked at Ashlee and picked up a bow staff from the corner of the room. “Start with these?” She shook her head, looking frightened. 

 “ _Hell no._ You don’t want him using those for at least another year. Unless you like ass whippings. Plus it takes a master to handle those.” 

Patrick reddened, and tried to downplay it, shifting his fedora around on his head. This action cause some of his hair to stick up, forming somewhat of a little halo.

“My little angel.” I cooed. This caused even more blush to rise to his cheeks. 

“Could ya stop teasing ne?” Patrick pleaded. 

“Aw, cone ON, Trick.” 

 A few hours passed as we tried to decide what to do with Patrick’s training. I was getting tired and antsy. Not good. I stole a blood bag from Ashlee, drinking half and sitting it down. 

_Fuck,_ I thought _I can still be human._

“Hey, ‘Trick?” I waited for him to look up from the diagram of several attack stances in his hands. “D-do you wanna get some coffee?” He nodded eagerly, so we left to _Killer Java_ , the nearest half- decent coffee shop. 

 In line, I was getting some not quite so friendly looks from a Mexican in line. My hand was linked in Patrick’s and every few seconds, I’d lean to him and whisper in his ear, earning either a blush or giggle.

I could almost hear the gears turning in the stupid wet back’s mind. He finally voiced my suspicions.

“Faggot.”he whispered as I leaned to kiss Patrick. It was just a small, chaste kiss. I turned around, eyes voicing the fire that was my mood. 

_Aw hell no._

“What the fuck did you just say, prick?!” Patrick tensed next to me. And I knew what he was thinking. _He’s gonna sink his fangs into that guy._

“Petey, don’t hurt him!” a nervous Patrick whispered next to me.

_“_ God damn, I wish I could.” I shot venomously. 

 The _Mexicano_ walked up closer to me and Patrick. “I said. Faggot. What, don’t like being called by your name? Don’t do that nasty shit in public.”

I was gonna let him go. I really was. I could take a few faggot comments. I was gay, after all. But he just _had_ to open his goddamn mouth again. 

“Especially not with a fat ass.” I guess that my super hearing was picking up his smart ass comments. But seeing Patrick’s face completely drained of color and tears piling up in his eyes, I couldn’t drop it. 

 “Excuse me, sir.” I said, walking up behind him. He turned, expecting someone to hand him his wallet or something. I slammed my fist into his jaw. The sickening snap that came after told me it was _probably_ broken. Good. At that point, Patrick had gotten our coffee, so we went outside to sit at a table. 

I could feel the hunger welling up inside me, threatening to take over. Ashlee took years of practice to be able to identify this before she was about to kill someone. Further proof I was a weird breed.

“P-patrick… Get away.” 

He looked confused, and then saw my fangs poking into the top of my lower lip.

“Pete, no.” I pushed my chair out, accidentally slamming it into the one behind it and denting both. 

“I’ll be back. I smell an animal. That’s safer than a human.” 

I bounded off towards the alley behind _Java Killer._ I was right. There was a cat and six kittens. I didn’t _want_ to kill the kittens, but i couldn’t kill their mother when they were still so young. I picked up two of the kittens and broke it open, getting. blood fast. 

 As I was quenching my hunger, I didn’t see someone steeping out of the corner of the alley towards me.

A heavy Spanish accent carried the words that left the persons mouth. 

“Vampire. I should’ve known there was something up with your emo ass other than you’re a faggot.” 

The moonlight shifted just enough that I could see his face. He was pale, but not completely, just like me. A sharp pair of blood dusted fangs extended completely to the small dimple in his chin.

A Dandy. 

He circled me twice, trying to make heads or tails of my figure. Sizing me up for battle. 

“Yah know, hijo, my jaw hurts like Hell. Dios. You ass.” He swung for my face. Expected. What was  _not_ expected was his other fist swinging into my gut. A rough grunt escaped my lips and he did it again in quick succession. 

His fangs caught my neck, slicing it pretty deep. 

_Damn, do all of us have daggers in our mouths?_

 He left me there. A sound of some sort frightened him off.

“Too cold.” I whimpered.

I could feel a light, a source of heat coming towards me. It wanted to wrap me up, softly, in a sweet hug. I wanted to welcome it. Life as mister macho slayer and then mister special breed vampire was too much. My bravado was falling. I cried. Hell, I’m pretty sure I pissed myself. I didn’t know I could die _again._

 But I didn’t. 

I heard Patrick’s voice. Him cursing upon seeing my body. He knew I was dying. He thought I was dead. 

 “P-petey?” He waited, almost silently, for a response. When he didn’t get one, he started to panic. “Pete? Petey? Peter? B-baby?! PETE!” He shook me. 

I couldn’t reply. I could feel the warmth wrapping itself tighter and around more of my freezing body. A few tiny snowflakes from the light snow coming down stuck in Patrick’s eyelashes. He looked even more like an angel.

 “N-no. Pete. Don’t you fucking die. NO. I won’t fucking let you. WAKE UP!” He screamed out in anguish. 

 But there was no response from me. 

Regardless of his panic, I was calm. All my weight was lifted. No more burdens for me. But the warmth covered my body completely now. 

 And it started getting warmer and warmer. From _straight-from-the-drier-clothing-oh-my-god_ heat to _ow-shit-fuck-stop-third-degree-burn_ heat. It started to hurt. Burning. Like sticking your hand to an oven. I could see flames and my vision had a red tint to it. 

Then it clicked. I was dying. And going to hell. I was pretty much a demon now that I had vampiric blood in me. The flames were the gate. But I could still see Patrick. I wasn’t dead yet. 

He fell to his knees, tears streaming full force. The snow gathered atop his fedora and sprinkled a little into his hat. Pulling my head into his lap, he started to sing. It was something soft, sweet, and beautiful, but I couldn’t make out the words. His eyes close and he hugged me tighter. He seemed to be calming down, but focusing on something.

 I let his hug envelop me as the flames nearly took over my body. A pair of massive black wings wrapped around my body and Patrick’s arms. I snuggled up against the feathers.

_So soft._

The last thing I saw was Patrick smiling weakly through tears wrapping his wings around me. 

 

 


End file.
